


Buttoned Up

by escribo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escribo/pseuds/escribo
Summary: A willingness to follow gives Remus a chance to lead.





	Buttoned Up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for the 2011 rs_games (and then forgotten, never to be posted here!)

Nearly two hours after Sirius lured Remus from the library with the promise of a secret passage into The Hog’s Head pub, one that even James didn’t know about yet, Remus knew he’d been had. 

Again. 

He had gone through nearly this same routine with James less than a month ago, following along patiently only to have James collapse into loud guffaws as if it’d been the best joke he’d ever heard the minute Remus showed the first sign of impatience. That night it had only taken twenty minutes before Remus had dug in his heels and refused to take one step further until James showed him the map and told him where they were going.

Of course, everything with Sirius was different. To start, Remus hadn’t thought that Sirius would be so persistent. It wasn’t as if patience was Sirius’ strong suit. Remus had figured that after ten minutes of not once asking if Sirius knew where he was going that Sirius would break and admit it had all been part of some elaborate joke or a bet played with more pocket money than Remus would see in a year. He hadn’t expected that Sirius would spend the evening leading Remus around the castle without ever trying to goad a response from him.

Still, Remus was determined not to let Sirius win whatever game he was playing. When Sirius, dusting cobwebs out of his hair after a cupboard on the second floor turned into a hidden and long disused passageway to the first, asked, _tired yet, Moony?_ , Remus had simply shaken his head, his hands buried deep into his pockets, and replied (much to Sirius’ confusion), _lead on, Macduff_.

An hour later, Remus was quite tired and his thought were mostly occupied by the treacle tart and cold pumpkin juice he was sure the house elves would happily give them if they happened to wander near enough the kitchens to make the suggestion. He refused to ask outright for a break. He only silently followed Sirius up on staircase after another, through at least three empty classrooms, down a hall, back up the same hall, and through a door that turned out to be a window (depending on which side you were standing on). 

He watched without comment as Sirius converse with at least six different portraits, two in Latin, which Remus could understand (the language if not the conversation), one in French, and one in stilted Middle English (though he suspected that Sirius was just making it up as he went along). It was only when Sirius began playing twenty questions with a suit of armor that scratched its nose for “yes” and made an obscene gesture for “no” that Remus finally decided that perhaps Sirius had earned whatever prize he was seeking.

“You do have some idea where you’re going, don’t you?” Remus asked in the most put-upon voice he could muster. If he was going to let Sirius win, he decided he should at least make the best of it and guilt Sirius into apologizing after he collected his winnings.

“We’re almost there.”

“You said that an hour ago.” He hated to whinge, but James had given up the game much more quickly than this and had let Remus copy his Artithmancy homework. Remus knew for a fact that Sirius hadn’t even started the Transfiguration essay that he had convinced Remus could wait until tomorrow. Never mind it was due tomorrow.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Moony?"

"In my trunk, stuffed between my socks and my last clean pair of pants. I brought along my self-preservation instead."

"Haven't you ever, I don't know—wanted to find something that isn't on the map?"

"Considering we made the map--"

"Don't be difficult."

"Who's being difficult? You said you found a passage to the Hog's Head. That's why I followed you."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Yes. No," Remus changed his answer quickly and looked away from Sirius, wanting to believe he'd just imagined that flash of hurt he'd seen in Sirius' eyes. 

"I'd follow you anywhere, you know that," he said more quietly, and felt the strange constriction in his chest ease considerably when Sirius flashed him a bright smile. "I just want to know what we've been doing for the past three hours if you didn't actually have a destination in mind."

"Don't you ever just want to do something that you know you shouldn't?"

"I do plenty that I shouldn't."

"You let me and James talk you into doing things. That's not the same," Sirius said as he consulted the map again. "You're so buttoned up all the time."

Sirius said it in such an off-hand way, as if it were fact, that Remus knew he'd been talked about, likely with James. Who else would care? As he followed Sirius into a smaller passage, Remus self-consciously tugged at his tie that was still done up from that morning, though he knew (hoped) that Sirius didn't mean it quite so literally. 

"I am not," he said quietly, too softly, he hoped, for Sirius to hear him.

"You are. Ever since they pinned that prefect's badge on you, you’ve become responsible. Respectable."

"I'm the most respectable werewolf here."

"I don't like it."

"You don't like it?" Remus stopped and stared incredulously at Sirius' back as he slowly tapped the stone wall with his knuckles.

"Not much. You were much jollier before."

"I have never been _jolly_." Remus spat out the word as if Sirius had accused him of being a spy for Slytherin. He felt his cheeks begin to burn when Sirius stopped prodding the wall and turned to stare at him instead. Remus crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly more nervous than embarrassed. "Name one time when I've been _jolly_."

"What's wrong with being jolly?"

Remus could hear the laughter in Sirius' voice now, which was infinitely worse. "You think Peter's jolly, is what's wrong."

"What's wrong with Peter being jolly?"

"I don't know," Remus lied, his cheeks burning. He knew what Sirius thought of Peter.

"Now you're angry with me."

The hurt look was back and Remus felt his stomach twist with guilt. "I am not."

"You are. Your eyebrow's doing that thing it does when you're mad."

"It doesn't do anything," Remus muttered, pressing his fingers along the treacherous eyebrow.

"It does. Two nights ago when James stole your Muggle Studies essay and read it aloud in the common room, it did the exact same thing it's doing now. Until you hexed his trousers off."

Remus' lips twitched into something he would always deny was a smile.

"Are you going to hex my trousers off, Moony?" Sirius teased as he made a grab for Remus' hand, and the smile fell from Remus' lips to be replaced by something completely different at the thought of Sirius with no trousers.

"Stop it, you overgrown mutt," Remus said nervously as he batted at Sirius' hands and began to inch backwards along the narrow passageway and away from Sirius' long, outstretched fingers. A month into their first year, Sirius had discovered that Remus could be reduced to a giggling mess at just the threat of being tickled and had used it as an advantage in every fight they'd had until Remus, a late bloomer, hit puberty the summer after he turned fifteen. Now nearly seventeen, it wasn't giggles that Remus was worried so much as just the thought of Sirius touching him.

"Nope. This is for your own good." Sirius kept advancing on Remus, grabbing one wrist and holding it tight in his strong hand before he reached for the other. "You're going to explode one day if I let you carry on like this. You'll end up barmy in St. Mungo's, and I'll never forgive myself."

When Sirius pressed Remus' trapped hands against the cold stone wall and grinned down at him, all bright eyes and predatory smile, Remus stopped fighting altogether. He couldn't stop looking at how cherry red Sirius' full lips were or how good he smelled this close up, like sunshine and grass—summer in the middle of a Scottish winter. Remus leaned in just barely, just enough, and closed his eyes, his whispered _Sirius_ sounding more like a whimper than a protest.

"C'mon Moony. Do something you think you shouldn't," Sirius whispered, his breath coming hot over Remus' face. "Please?"

It was the _please_ that did it. Sirius never asked nicely, and Remus couldn't refuse him when he was being rude, much less like this. Remus lunged forward before he could lose his courage and kissed Sirius hard, their noses and chins pressing together awkwardly before Sirius let Remus' wrists go and Remus changed the angle of his kiss. 

His hands freed, Remus smoothed his palms over Sirius' back, clutching at the soft gray jumper he wore. Sirius slipped his hand over Remus' neck and pulled him closer, swept his tongue over Remus' lips, and Remus opened to him, tasting him, teasing him. Sirius moaned into his mouth and nipped at Remus' lips as he used his hips to pin Remus against the stone wall of the passageway. Remus curled his leg around Sirius', slipping a cold hand beneath the hem of Sirius' jumper and touching his skin as they kissed again and again until Sirius was tugging Remus' shirt from his trousers and brushing his fingers against Remus' stomach.

"Do you still want me to stop?" Sirius whispered against the shell of Remus' ear, and Remus shook his head, his breath catching when he realized that Sirius was reaching to unfasten his trousers. Remus clenched his hand hard on Sirius' shoulder, urging Sirius on, and Sirius looked up, his eyes glassy and slightly unfocused before he sank to his knees, willing, it seemed, to follow wherever Remus was prepared to lead.

Remus wasn't surprised when he couldn't find the words for all the reasons they shouldn't do this. His mind buzzed pleasantly with the feeling of Sirius' hands on his hips, on his thighs. His only and last rational thought was about how desperately he wanted to feel Sirius' mouth wrapped around his cock. The thought of it made him feel as though he'd been hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx and harder than he'd ever been as Sirius pressed his hand over the bulge in his trousers. The sound of his zipper was loud to his ears as Sirius pulled it down slowly, torturously. Remus cursed softly when Sirius pressed his mouth against the material of his pants, tonguing his cock. He had to fight to keep his footing before he cupped his hand behind Sirius' head, through his thick dark hair. He traced his thumb over Sirius' cheek and his lips, over the wet tip of his own cock before Sirius slipped his thumbs into the elastic waist of Remus' y-fronts and pulled them away, too.

Sirius stroked him gently, reverently, before he bent his head to touch his tongue to Remus' cock. Remus groaned, knowing he wouldn't last, that he couldn't possibly as he watched Sirius lick his lips before he went back for more. Remus pushed himself forward as Sirius leaned in, the universe contracting into just the heat in his belly and Sirius' impossibly hot mouth and talented tongue. He barely felt Sirius' blunt nails as they dug into his skin, and knew he'd have half moon bruises pressed into the skin of his hips in the morning. It was that—that there would be marks on his body left by something as brilliant as this, by Sirius—that sent him over the edge. Remus pumped his hips, crying out Sirius' name when Sirius held him still, met his rhythm, and Remus came as he imagined what the press of his cock must feel like on the back of Sirius' throat. How his jaw must ache. The sound of a quick, sharp inhale of air through Sirius' nose shocked Remus into moving his hips again until he was spent.

When it was over—when he was spent—Sirius pulled him down and close, eased him onto his back and covered Remus' body with his own. He kissed Remus' neck, his eyes, his lips. He could feel Sirius' smile against his lips when neither could kiss anymore. 

"You're still buttoned up, Moony," Sirius whispered as he tugged on Remus' tie.

"Barely."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm... I'm unbelievable." Remus laughed as he pushed a shaky hand through his sweaty hair. "How about you? We didn't-- I mean, I could—“

"I did, actually. Don't tell James, yeah? He'd never let me live it down."

"Are we-- Are you going to tell James?"

"Not yet. Not if you don't want me to." Sirius touched Remus' cheek. "You don't want me to, do you?"

"Not yet."

"You're starting to think again."

"I didn't mean to."

"That's a start, at least."

"And where does it end?"

"Wherever we want it to, Moony. Don't forget, we made the map."


End file.
